Here Comes The Rain
by Mar Komi
Summary: Forced to land on a border moon during its monsoon season, the crew must help the locals deal with the threats of a bursting dam. Meanwhile Jayne and River are the only ones left guarding Serenity. Third in the Eagle series.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Oh, y'all know the drill.

**Characters: **The whole gang, except Inara who has left the boat.

**A/N: **This post-series, pre-movie fic is the third in a series and follows my other stories "Eagle" and "Lessons". It takes place about two-three weeks after the latter.

* * *

><p><strong>Here Comes The Rain<strong>

_Serenity _was airborne again, and even though he didn't exactly show it by clapping his hands and bouncing around, Captain Mal Reynolds was thrilled. The sixteen days they'd spent on Boros was the longest consecutive time he'd been in port in the last five years, and it was at least thirteen days too long. The planet had never been Mal's favorite place in the 'verse, if he _had_ such a thing. It was crawling with Alliance, and surprise visits from port control representatives and tax collectors were just a few of the many things there that made an honest crook's life a little more interesting than it had to be. But they'd arrived with empty tanks and no money, and sitting put waiting for the first job opportunity to come along had been their only choice.

The captain had spent most of those sixteen days on his toes, always looking over his shoulder, desperately longing for the sky. His crew, on the other hand, had been exploiting the down time for what it was worth. They'd lounged lazily in the sun outside the ship and gone sightseeing in the nearby docks and settlements; Kaylee had even gone to the market to sell the earrings and bracelets she and River sometimes made during the long hours onboard when there was nothing else to be done. The guys had all teased her for it, but when she came back with a decent amount of money the teasing abruptly stopped.

Mal had admonished his people more than once to stay out of trouble and they mostly had (maybe because Jayne with his broken leg had been a lot less mobile than usual), but he was still relieved when the Sanchez brothers finally approached him with a job (the same ol' drill: move some goods off-world, under the radar, don't ask questions). They'd been paid half the fee up front, which had enabled them to fill the tanks and resupply, and as soon as they possibly could they'd been on their way.

And here they were. Back in the Black. And he walked around the cargo bay enjoying the sight of all the crates taking up space.

Zoë suddenly poked her head around one of them and grinned at him. "You're smiling, sir," she stated. "That glad to have cargo?"

"Didn't know it showed," he said.

"It doesn't," she replied. "But I still see it."

He made no effort to hide his smile this time. "It's good to be in business."

Her eyes strayed to the piles of boxes and her face turned grave. "This is worth a hell lotta money," she said.

"That's why the pay's good," he retorted.

Her smile returned as she leaned casually against a crate. "There just ain't a win for us, is there? When we don't have cargo we worry 'cause we're not makin' coin, when we _do _have cargo we still worry, 'cause we can't stop thinkin' 'bout the risks that comes with carryin' it."

"Well, I'll choose the latter anyday," Mal said. "Cheer up, the drop's only a couple a days away. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Sir, sometimes I worry 'bout the state of your short term memory." Still smiling she turned and headed for the stairs, and with a small chuckle he followed her.

They found most of the crew in the galley when they entered a few moments later. Book and Simon were by the stove cooking and chatting. Jayne was in the lounge area, settled into an armchair, his broken leg propped on the table, while he flipped through something that looked like a weapon's manual. Next to him were Kaylee and River, both girls deeply concentrated on decorating his cast with color markers. That was a sight Mal had to take a moment to really absorb. He stopped in front of them and tilted his head a little to the side to study the colorful drawings. "Shiny," he smiled.

Kaylee looked up at him with a grin, but River was lost in her own world or at least appeared to be. Jayne glanced up as well and saw what the captain had been commenting on.

"Oh, that." He shrugged. "They wanted to, so…" His eyes narrowed as he a little dubiously checked out the girls' work. "Jus' don't draw anythin' girlie, like flowers and butterflies or such."

"Approximately half of all butterflies are male," River said, obviously not so lost after all. "And so are half of the plants, except the transgendered plants which have _no_ gender or, one could argue, have _both_. And as such there is nothing particularly feminine with neither butterflies nor flowers."

Jayne just glared at her. "Whatever," he grunted and went back to his reading (or his looking at pictures; Mal wasn't sure what).

The captain pulled out a chair and sat down at the table just as Wash joined them. "Course plotted and laid in," he happily declared as he came through the door and descended the little staircase. "ETA in forty hours."

"You shaved some time off," Mal realized. "Well done."

"Thank you," Wash replied. He received a kiss from his wife as he passed by her, and then went to the lounge to admire the piece of art being produced there. "Shiny," was also _his _opinion.

Mal gratefully accepted the cup of coffee Zoë handed him. He truly enjoyed the atmosphere surrounding him at this point. His crew seemed well relaxed and, just like him, content and happy to be on the boat. Forty hours or four hundred – after all it didn't matter when you were home.

"Who's on septic vac duty this week?" Zoë asked. "'Cause the toilets need lookin' after. They stink."

"They always stink," Simon pointed out, but not really in an accusing way.

"They do?" Wash said. "Huh, guess I've stopped noticing." He frowned. "Now, _that _can't be a good thing."

"Well, it's Jayne's week," Mal replied with a sideways glance at his hired muscle sitting in the lounge. "But…"

Jayne looked up. "Hah! 'Bout time I got sumthin' good outta this gorram leg."

Mal ignored him. "Kaylee, you do it."

Kaylee made a face, but didn't voice any complaints. "Sure, Cap."

"That's my girl. I'll have Jayne do your chores once he's healed up."

"Hey!" Jayne exclaimed.

Again Mal ignored him. "And when will that be, Doc?" he asked Simon.

"The cast can come off in two weeks or so," the doctor replied from over at the kitchen counter, where he was portioning the food out on the plates. "And then some rehabilitation and therapy to rebuild the muscles and regain the flexibility… Maybe a month all together?"

Jayne frowned and glared at his leg for a moment. "Sure we can't take it off a little early?"

"Not unless you want to walk with a limp for the rest of your life."

Being Jayne, the mercenary seemed to actually consider if it would still be worth it.

"Forget it," Mal told him.

And then the power died.

The lights flickered and went dark, and the sound of the engine – the low hum nobody ever noticed until it was gone – disappeared. It only lasted for a few seconds and then it came back on.

"Oh _hell _no!" Mal yelled, remembering all too vividly the things that occurred the last time this had happened.

Kaylee had already jumped to her feet. "I'll go check." But she paused for a few seconds in the doorway, making sure no ball of fire was hurled at her this time. When nothing happened, she went on her way.

"Check out the bridge," Mal told Wash before he followed her.

Zoë also came along. "You jinxed it," she said.

"What?" Mal asked.

"'_What could possibly go wrong?_'"

"Oh come on!" he said as they entered the engine room where Kaylee was already down on all fours looking for whatever was wrong. "Look, engine's still turnin', we ain't driftin' this time."

Just then a loud clunking sound emitted from the engine, and as it spat out a huge cloud of smoke it died once again, causing Mal to exclaim, "I have _got _to learn when to keep my mouth shut!"

All was dark and silent for a second and then the lights went back on as the emergency power kicked in.

"What goin' on?" Jayne yelled from the kitchen.

"Kaylee?" Mal said.

"I'm on it!" she replied as she frantically kept working.

Realizing he was of no use to her, Mal decided to give her some space. "Just get it back on," he said before he and Zoë headed back to the galley. Book and Simon were waiting in the doorway with worried looks on their faces, but it was Jayne who spoke first.

"So, are we gonna die or what?"

"All that is born must perish," River calmly told him.

"Oh shut up!"

Wash returned from the bridge. "Nothing out of the ordinary at this end," he reported. "But the engine stopped again."

"We _noticed,_" Mal impatiently snarled, just as the well-known hum suddenly started up again. "And now it's back on." He turned and shouted, "Well done, Kaylee!"

The mechanic returned from the engine room. "Don't thank me just yet, Cap'n. I got it stared again but it ain't a permanent solution. One of the fuel conduits is busted. We have a leak."

Mal groaned. "_Ta ma de! _Can you fix it?"

"I think so. But we need to land." She knew he wouldn't like it, so she hesitated a little before adding, "Somewhere with a decent scrap yard, 'cause I need to replace a few parts."

Mal cursed again. "Don't like the idea of us landin' on a populated rock with this kinda cargo."

"We ain't got no choice, Cap. Right now we're wastin' two thirds of the fuel, and we won't be able to reach our destination like this."

Mal sighed. "I see. Wash…"

"I'll check out the neighborhood," Wash finished the sentence for him and headed back to towards the bridge. Book went with him.

"Sometimes I'm positively sure the 'verse is out to get me," Mal muttered to no one in particular. "And I love _Serenity, _but she really do disturb my calm once in a while."

"It's not her fault she's old," River said. She seemed completely unfazed by all the commotion and just continued drawing on Jayne's cast.

Mal felt himself soften just a little. "Guess not."

Somehow Kaylee kept them going, but the occasional clang and smoke cloud still emitted from the engine room when he joined his pilot and the shepherd on the bridge ten minutes later. Wash saw him coming and pointed to the map on his console screen. "We figure Shahadeva is our best shot. Little backwater moon, a few thousand inhabitants only, no Alliance. Should suit our needs."

"What's the downside?" Mal gloomily asked, because there always was one and the expression on Wash's face did nothing to convince him otherwise.

"The weather forecast."

"The what?"

"Shahadeva, like many other worlds, has it's own little quirks," Book explained. "Apparently there was a glitch in the terraforming process that made the weather conditions a little interesting."

Mal's eyes narrowed. "Define 'interesting'."

"Looks like we're just in time for the monsoon season. Eight months of heavy rain."

"Eight _months_?"

"Followed by eight months of drought," Wash added. He pointed to the map again. "The main settlement's here on the northern continent."

Mal sighed. "I can tell you I already hate this place, but by all means, take us down." He turned and hurried back to the kitchen. "Okay, ladies and menfolk, best unpack your raincoats and umbrellas. We're goin' someplace _wet_."


	2. Chapter 2

"Explain to me again why _I _had to come along."

Wash had to shout to be heard over the thundering rain. Zoë and Mal, who were leading the party, both turned to look at him. Or rather squint at him, as they found it hard to keep their eyes open with all the water pouring down their faces.

"You're gonna help Kaylee look for the parts she needs," Mal shouted back. "Besides, you couldn't send your wife out in the rain and then stay behind your-own-self, snug and dry, on the boat. That wouldn't be gentlemanly."

Zoë almost laughed at the expression that fell over her husband's face, a funny mixture of annoyance and shame. He never offered the captain any reply though, just pulled his coat tighter and kept trotting on.

They'd parked _Serenity _about a mile outside Shahadeva's main settlement (not an easy task in this weather apparently, Wash had complained a lot about the restricted view as he executed it), but what _should_ have been a short walk seemed a lot longer in these conditions. All of them were bundled up in anything that remotely passed as waterproof, but they'd still been soaking wet before they had even gotten as far as thirty paces away from the ship.

"People _live _in this?" Kaylee said, an unusual comment coming from her, as she was always so tolerant and open-minded and probably the last person in the 'verse to pass judgment on other people's ways.

"For eight months every year," Shepherd Book replied, prompting Zoë to cast a glance in his direction. Of the five of them he was the only one who'd left the comforts of the boat willingly. He'd said something about diplomacy skills and the captain's lack of it, and decided it would be best if he came along. Mal had either agreed or not bothered to argue with him.

The settlement, or town or whatever they called it, was situated at the bottom of a long and narrow valley. To get to it they had to cross a river, and it was as they reached a rusty iron bridge that something hit Zoë as not right.

"One would think," she began as she stopped halfway across the bridge and peered over the railing at the flowing water below, "that with all this rain the river would be bigger."

The others had stopped too, and Mal took out his binoculars and looked westwards, upstream, through them. "Yeah," he agreed. "And here's why." He pointed out the direction as he handed the binoculars to her.

It wasn't easy to make out through the pouring rain, but she saw it. The valley ended in what at first glance looked like a big concrete wall. "A dam?" she said.

"It's huge!" Kaylee exclaimed. She shielded her eyes with her hand and squinted against the rain to admire the wonder before her, or the little she actually saw of it.

"Anything about this here on the Cortex?" Mal asked the Book, who had borrowed the binoculars and was studying the dam himself.

"Not that I saw," the shepherd replied. "But it did say the locals were mostly industrial workers. Might have something to do with that."

Mal turned back towards the town. "Well, not that it matters, we're not stayin'. Come on, let's find whoever's in charge here. And hope they have what we need."

"I hope they have a _roof,_" Wash said.

A few minutes later they were carefully making their way up the town's main street. Zoë kept a vigilant eye on her surroundings, taking in the details, mapping out the landscape in case of trouble. The houses here were small and crude and looked like they were made up of any material the people could get their hands on; a sharp contrast to the impressive dam they'd just seen.

"Where _is_ everybody?" Kaylee asked. The settlement seemed completely deserted.

"Probably inside, like anyone in their right mind _would_ be," Mal replied.

"Okay, now I'm officially wet _everywhere,_" Wash suddenly declared. Zoë sent him an impatient look.

Just as she turned back she spotted movement next to one of the nearby buildings and reached out an arm to stop her captain. "There." He saw, and they both put their hands on their guns but didn't draw them. Best to look friendly until the others proved _not _to be.

They counted five people emerging from the shadows, slowly and carefully approaching them. They all carried rifles, but weren't pointing them at them at this point. Kaylee still took a nervous step backwards and raised her hands.

"We come in peace," Mal shouted.

"Who's there?" came the reply. It was the man leading the party who had spoken, and as he came closer Zoë could make out the worn and rugged face of a middle aged man under the hood of his raincoat.

"Name's Malcolm Reynolds," the captain introduced himself. "I captain a Firefly."

"Yes, we saw your ship." The man came to a halt a couple of yards away from them. He looked a little skeptical, but not really hostile or threatening.

"These are my crew," Mal continued and pointed to each of them in turn. "My first mate, Zoë… Wash…. Kaylee… and Shepherd Book. We're having some trouble with our engine and had to make an emergency landing. We don't mean to impose."

The man eyed them for a moment, obviously feeling them out, but then he uncocked his gun and dropped the arm holding it. "I'm Torsten Norby," he said. "But let's not talk here. Please, come inside."

Kaylee instantly relaxed. She grinned broadly, apparently exited by the prospect of meeting new friends, and looked to her captain in anticipation. The idea seemed to go down with Wash as well. "Getting out of the rain sounds good to me," he said.

Mal nodded and they followed Torsten and his men to a house a little further up the street. "Please forgive us our somewhat harsh welcome," Torsten said as he opened the door and entered, then stepped aside to let the rest of them through, "but we don't get visitors very often."

"You'll want to be careful," Shepherd Book stated. "Very understandable."

Zoë studied the room as she stepped into it. It was small and dark, the windows were barred with shutters, and the only source of light was a couple of small lamps on a dinner table by the far wall and the yellow flames in the fireplace. There was a young woman at the table, preparing a meal, and she put down her carving knife and came to greet them when she saw the strangers. "This is my daughter, Dicte," Torsten introduced her.

"Please, let me take your clothes," the young woman said. "Come warm yourselves by the fire."

Wash and Kaylee weren't hard to convince. They were soon stripped of everything but their overalls and huddled in front of the fire while Dicte hung the rest of their clothing on a clothesline in an attempt to dry them. Zoë was, along with Mal and the shepherd, a little more wary but ended up following their crewmates' example.

Not long after, when they'd warmed up by the fire and been served a hot beverage (a toddy of some kind), the captain's shoulders had slumped considerably. Zoë guessed hers had as well, though not all the way. These were certainly friendly people, but she had learned to never let her guard down completely.

"So, is there anything we can help you with?" Torsten asked. The men he'd had with him had slithered off to somewhere else and it was just him and his daughter left in the room with them.

"Well, like I mentioned earlier, we're havin' some engine trouble," Mal said. "My mechanic, Kaylee here," he gestured towards the young woman who was sitting in front of the fire, talking to Dicte, "tells me a few parts need replacin'. And so we were wonderin' if you happened to have a scrap yard around here she could look through for what she needs."

Torsten raised his eyebrows for a moment, but then just shrugged. "If you think you'll find any of our junk useful, you are of course welcome to it."

"Thank you," Book said before Mal had even opened his mouth.

Torsten turned towards his daughter. "Dicte, show them the junk yard outside the old factory. That would probably be the best place to start."

"Yes, Daddy." Dicte stood and offered Kaylee her arm, which Kaylee gladly accepted. Both women giggled as they got dressed and made their way to the door, and seemed to have established a fine rapport between the two of them already.

"Wash?" Mal prompted.

"Yes, yes, I'm going with them," Wash muttered. He reluctantly scrambled to his feet and pulled his half-dry clothes back on, before he ventured back outside together with the girls.

Mal watched them leave, with the shadow of a malicious smile on his lips. Book saw it and shook his head and turned to Torsten instead. "If you don't mind my asking, how do you make a life for yourselves out here, in these… challenging conditions."

Torsten smiled bitterly. "It ain't been easy. But you get by somehow when you don't got no choice."

"You're dam builders?" Zoë asked.

"Not at all," the man replied with a little sad chuckle. "I'm a welder by trade. I came out here with my daughter lookin' for a new start after her mother died. I found _this. _I can tell you it wasn't what I'd dreamed of." He stared down into his cup for a short while before he continued. "No, the Alliance built the dam. They had these grand plans about how they was gonna take advantage of the heavy rainfall and let hydropower cover all our energy needs."

"I guess it didn't turn out so well?" Mal said. It didn't really sound like a question.

Torsten shook his head. "After a few years they must have decided it wasn't worth the trouble and they packed up and abandoned everything, taking with them anyone who knew how to operate the gorram thing."

"They just left you here," Zoë stated. She wasn't at all surprised by Torsten's story, but as always it pissed her off to hear how the Alliance sometimes treated their citizens.

"Then how do you survive?" Book asked.

"We grow food in special agricultural domes further down the valley. There's animals in the forests and hills we can hunt, and there's fish in the river when there's a river. Occasionally the Alliance still ships us supplies if we beg hard enough for it, but nothing too reliable."

They were quiet for a moment, each of them steaming in their own silent rage against the government. Well, maybe not the preacher, Zoë thought to herself as she glanced up at him; he had contracted his eyebrows and looked like he was thinking hard.

"Would it be possible to have a closer look at that dam?" he eventually asked.

"Sure," Torsten answered. "I can take you there in my truck right now." He looked at Mal and Zoë. "You're coming too?"

"It's not like I got sumthin' better to do," Mal replied, and Zoë just nodded.

* * *

><p>The truck turned out to be a battered, old off-roader but it climbed the winding trails leading up to the dam as true as <em>Serenity <em>sailed through the Black, and it took them less than twenty minutes to get there. They stepped out of the car and walked up to a building that was probably the dam's abandoned control center and stopped in front of it to look at the dam itself.

Seeing the construction up close made Mal realize how incredibly huge it really was. It rose close to a thousand feet from the bottom of the valley and measured about half a mile across. The artificial lake on the other side was more than full; the water was already spilling over the top.

Book was standing next to him, taking in the impressive sight. "If this thing bursts it will flood the entire valley," he said in a gloomy way that was a little unlike him. "Taking the whole town and all its people with it."

Mal cast him a sideways glance. "I'm sure it was built to last, Shepherd."

"If it was run and maintained properly, yes," Book retorted. "Look, the spillways are closed. They ought to be open now with all this water putting pressure to it."

Torsten had heard him. "We've tried," he said. "But they're stuck somehow. Like I told you, there's no one here knows how to operate it."

"Do you have your binoculars?" Book asked Mal, and Mal handed them to him. The preacher always made him feel a little uneasy when he behaved like this. So determined, so seemingly in control, and yet so secretive.

For a long while he was just studying the dam through the binoculars. "There are cracks in the concrete," he eventually declared.

"They grow bigger every year," Torsten said, which earned him a don't-you-see-the-danger-you're-in?-look from the shepherd. "But they're superficial and it's holding."

"It won't hold forever," Book said, sounding strict. "You're gonna have to evacuate your settlement right away." He turned to the others. "This isn't a question of _if _the dam will burst, but _when. _And that _when_ will be very soon."


	3. Chapter 3

"We have to help!"

"You said so already."

Back inside Torsten's living room the tension ran high. Mal and Shepherd Book weren't exactly _fighting, _but they stood on opposite sides of the eating table glaring and throwing loaded comments at each other. They had both stayed quiet during the drive back down from the dam, the preacher had only sent the captain a couple of significant glances, but now as Torsten had left them to gather the town's council he wasn't afraid to voice his opinions.

Mal gestured with his arms and added, "What do you want me to do, preacher? I can't stop the force of nature. It's the guy upstairs you should be talkin' to."

"You could help evacuate these people. We could load up _Serenity…_"

"_Serenity _already _has_ cargo. Which we are to deliver in _two_ days."

"You can't honestly mean your job is more important…"

"I never said that!" Mal interrupted. "But no one has _asked _for our help."

"They have to _ask?_"

Zoë was about to open her mouth to tell them both to simmer down a little, when she heard the sound of someone stepping up to the door and turned to see if Torsten was returning. Instead it was Kaylee and Wash who entered the room, both looking happy and pleased. The girl, Dicte, was not with them.

"Hey, y'all," Kaylee smiled. "Good news, Cap, I found everything I needed and more. We can…" She frowned as she seemed to sense the changed atmosphere in the room. "What is it? What's happenin'?"

Mal looked at her. "You ready to start repairs?"

"Right away, sir." Her eyes flickered from him to the preacher. "What is it?" she repeated.

Mal turned to gaze at the shepherd again, daring him to open his mouth. "We… There's been a change of plans."

"So you _will _help them?" Book asked.

Mal didn't reply. Kaylee and Wash only looked even more lost and confused.

It took a little explaining, but it wasn't long before the two of them were fully brought up to date on the new developments. Kaylee paled and immediately agreed with the shepherd. "We have to help them."

"First of all we need to fix our ship," Mal said.

"Yeah," Wash nodded. "Right now we're in harm's way too."

"And then," Mal sighed, "we'll see."

Again Zoë heard the sound of feet approaching and this time it really was Torsten. He looked worried as he stepped inside and addressed Book. "The council would like to see you, Shepherd."

Book nodded and cast another daring glance at the captain, making it clear that he would not be stopped. Mal didn't even try. "We're coming too," was all he said.

They all hurried through the rain to a larger building near the center of the town. Torsten's daughter was waiting just inside the door and anxiously looked at her father as they arrived. "Daddy?" she said, and Torsten grasped her hand as he walked by, but his body language clearly stated that this was not the time for her to ask questions. Zoë offered her a reassuring smile that didn't seem to help much.

They entered a big room that clearly served as the city hall. There was some sort of platform or stage at the far end and several rows of seats leading up to it. Here too the windows were all barred, but several lamps hanging from the ceiling did a good job lighting up the place. About thirty people were present, most of them scattered in small groups across the room, but five men and two women were standing right in front of the stage. They were in the middle of a heated discussion, but stopped when they spotted the new arrivals.

"This is the council," Torsten introduced them.

One of them, an elderly man of Asian origin stepped forward. "Are you the one?" he asked Book.

"I am the one warning you, if that's what you're asking," the preacher replied.

"Let's hear what you have to say, then."

There was something almost hostile in the man's voice, Zoë thought, and he was eyeing the shepherd with great suspicion and impatience. But Book wasn't one easily intimidated. He looked back with a stern and serious face while he calmly told them about his concerns about the dam.

He received mixed receptions. Some of the people in the room cried out in surprise and fear; others, like the old Asian, reacted with aggression. The rest only seemed confused, looking from their leaders to Book and back again.

"You are a shepherd," the Asian man stated. "Not a dam builder, nor an engineer. Why should we believe you?"

"Why should you _not_?" Book retorted. "Please, you _must _listen to me, Mr…?"

"Alfred Wong. I'm the mayor."

"Tell me, Mr Wong, why would I possibly lie about such a thing?"

Wong didn't answer, his eyes only narrowed further as he studied the preacher. Torsten took a step forward. "Yes, Mayor, why _would _they? He might be a shepherd, but he certainly seems to know a lot more about this dam than any of us."

"The dam has been standing unattended through eight rainy seasons," one of the women in the council said. "There's no reason to believe it will break now."

"Each year the damage grows bigger." Book's voice was strained now. He was losing his patience. "Believe me, it _will not _hold!"

"We must evacuate the town," Torsten added.

"And where would we go?" another member of the council asked.

"The caves in the hills," Torsten replied. "If we bring food…"

"Enough!" the mayor's voice boomed. "This is nonsense. You expect us to live in caves on the word of a wayward shepherd?" His gaze drifted from Book to the rest of the _Serenity _party and they rested for a particular long while on Mal. "Look at these types," he eventually said, addressing his fellow council members.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Mal asked him. There was a hint of contained aggression in his voice, and Zoë felt herself tense up, sensing there was action a-brewing.

"You look like nothing but scavengers to me," Wong snarled. "Thought you could lure us away from our town so you could empty it for all its valuables? Clever, and a lot less bloody than killing all of us, I'll give you that."

Behind Zoë, Kaylee gasped and Wash huffed. Mal's eyes narrowed and his voice was filled with venom as he spoke. "Listen, _Mayor, _my crew and I only landed on your sorry little rock 'cause our engine needed fixin'. We thought we'd do the right thing and warn you good folks about your impending doom, but hey, we got what we came here for, so if you don't want our help, we'll be on our merry way."

"Good." Wong's voice was icy cold. "We'll let you leave then." And with that he turned and left the room, the council in tow.

The rest of the people in the room hesitantly looked at Mal with wide and worried eyes, as if waiting for him to make the next move. He said nothing, just turned to leave, gesturing his crew to follow him.

"We cannot just leave them!" Book protested.

"These people made it pretty clear they don't want our help," Mal replied.

"Some of us do." Dicte had stepped forward and she looked at the captain with determination.

"Dicte," Torsten scolded.

"But we do, Daddy," she said, never taking her eyes of Mal. "The mayor's wrong, like he mostly is. If you can offer us _any_ assistance, Captain Reynolds, many people here will gladly accept it."

Mal opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again without saying anything. Book stepped closer, urging him, "They invited us into their home, shared their food with us, _gave_ you the parts you needed for your engine…"

The captain waved him off and looked at Torsten. "Are you asking for my help?"

Torsten hesitated a little, but then he nodded. "I am."

Mal made a poor attempt at suppressing a sigh. "How many people live here?"

"About two thousand."

Zoë heard Wash whistle behind her and she silently agreed with him.

"And how many will follow you?" Mal asked.

"It's hard to tell. But I would guess at least half of them."

"Wong is only popular among the people stupid enough to actually vote for him," Dicte added.

"That's enough, daughter!" Torsten cut her off.

Everything was quiet for a moment while Mal appeared to be carefully weighing his options. "Alright," he said. "We will head back to our ship now, fix what needs fixin'. Then we'll come back and see what we can do for you."

"We appreciate it, Captain." The relief was evident in Torsten's voice.

"In the meantime you must load your trucks with food and other necessities, but only take what you really need. Gather the people willing to evacuate. Everyone able to walk should start walking. We'll help the rest."

Torsten nodded, and he and his daughter and several of the other people in the room all hurried away to get ready. Book looked pleased and he offered Mal a smile. "It _is_ the decent thing to do," he said.

"Yeah," Mal mumbled. "But even you should have learned by now that us playing good Samaritans don't usually end well."

* * *

><p>They didn't talk much during the trek back to the ship. None of them felt a particular need to communicate as they hauled the heavy engine parts Kaylee had found and wiped the relentless water from their eyes. It wasn't until Wash opened the cargo bay doors and they finally got out of the rain, that they took a moment to catch their breath and gather their senses.<p>

"Okay, Kaylee, you best get started," Mal eventually said, mild but determined. "We need to move the boat up into the hills."

The shepherd was about to say something, but just then Jayne hollered at them as he came down the stairs from the bridge on crutches. Despite his broken leg he was impressively mobile; he even managed the ladder to his bunk without assistance, though not particularly gracefully. But then again, _graceful _was not a word Mal would ever use to describe his mercenary. "We got what we needed?" he asked. "We gettin' off this gorram rock?"

"Yes, and no," Mal replied.

"Huh?"

The Tams came through the door leading to the commons and judging by the puzzled look on Simon's face they had heard the exchange of words.

"There's some people we need to help first," Mal said, quite unenthusiastically, and left it to the others to further explain what he meant by that.

"There'll be old and frail people among them," Book added, eyeing Simon, as he finished the tale.

"I'll come along and see what I can do to help," the doctor immediately offered. This was obviously the reaction the preacher had hoped for, because he smiled and gave the young man a pat on the back.

Jayne's face, on the other hand, was one big frown. "You're gonna fly two _thousand _people to safety?" he repeated. "For _free_?"

"Yes, Jayne," Mal sighed tiredly.

"Because…?"

"Out of the goodness of our hearts," Mal muttered.

"If we used _Serenity_…," Book began.

"I won't have passengers crawlin' a top of this cargo!" the captain interrupted, glaring at him. "We're not usin' the boat and that's final!" He looked around, eyeing each of the others in turn. "We'll use the shuttles."

"They'll be easier to maneuver in this weather anyway," Wash added helpfully.

"How many people can the shuttles take?" Book asked.

"Well, they're built to safely carry four passengers," Wash replied. "But if we cram people in tight enough… maybe fifteen?"

The shepherd was already doing the math. "Fifteen per shuttle, that's thirty per trip. Maybe two thousand people… That'll be…"

"Sixty-seven trips, give or take," Simon finished.

"That's a lot of trips," Wash mumbled.

"Best get started then," Zoë said in a way that made it clear to everyone that this discussion was over. She knew better than any of them that nothing would make the captain change his mind.

"Shuttles it is," Mal declared. "Wash and I will pilot one each. Book, Doctor, you'll assist the locals however you can. Kaylee, I'm gonna drop you and Zoë off at the dam. I want you to see what you can do to get those spillways open."

"Sure, Cap."

"Jayne, you'll stay here. You guard my ship and the cargo. You should be able to, even in your condition."

"You got it."

Mal nodded and turned to the last member of his crew. "River…"

"I know," she replied flatly. "I'll guard Jayne."

Jayne stared at her. "_What?_"

Mal tried hard not to smile. "Precisely," he said.

Jayne spun around to stare at him instead. "What you mean? She's stayin' too?"

"Yes, Jayne."

Simon looked positively horrified. "I don't know… River…"

"Look," Mal said. "There'll be chaos out there; horrible weather, big crowds, panic, possibly a riot. I can't have your sister there distracting you. Don't worry, it's only for a few hours." He turned to glare at Jayne, adding, "He won't touch her."

"'Course I won't!" Jayne exclaimed, sounding offended, and then added under his breath, almost inaudible, "She saved my life."

"What was that?" the captain asked.

"Nuthin'," the merc muttered, but then he spoke up, "But if she tries to kill me again, I'm killin' her right back!"

"I guess that's only fair," Mal said and turned to the others. "Come on, people, let's get to work."

* * *

><p>Kaylee didn't need much time to perform another of her many miracles and fix the engine, and not more than an hour later Wash had flown the ship into the mountains and parked it on a plateau, snuggled in between two large rocks. It was probably the safest place to be right now, Simon thought to himself as he packed his medical equipment, but he still didn't like the idea of leaving his sister there.<p>

She was standing in the infirmary door, silently watching him as he finished his packing and turned to smile reassuringly at her. "I won't be gone long."

"The water will come," she said, her eyes all serious but otherwise expressionless.

"You'll be safe here," he assured her. "And I'll be careful, I promise."

He picked up his bag and stepped out of the infirmary, and he gave her a hug as he passed her. "You take good care of Jayne now," he said. "He's not allowed to put any weight on his leg, so no walking on the cast, okay?"

She nodded, still dead serious. "Okay."

"See you soon, _mei mei._"

And then he took a deep breath and headed for the shuttle.


	4. Chapter 4

Wash dropped Simon and Book off at a landing pad just outside the settlement. The man named Torsten was already gathering those who were ready, willing and able to evacuate there, and so far things seemed to be running in an orderly fashion. There were small signs of panic now and then, but most of the time people were impressively calm and collected. Simon guessed that living in this kind of environment would have that effect on you.

As soon as Book had introduced him, Torsten called for his daughter and told her to show Simon the clinic, and Dicte took him to a building at the outskirts of town where the old and sick were all gathered. There was no doctor, there hadn't been since the Alliance left eight years ago, Dicte told him, only a nurse, who – as far as Simon could tell after he'd walked around the clinic and gotten a first impression of the place – had done a great job with what little supplies she had on hand.

Hilda, as she was called, was thrilled to see Simon, though. "I have been begging them to send a physician for _years_," she said as she showed him around. "But all they send is the occasional shipment of antibiotics, vitamins and band-aids, and even those don't come as often as they should. So believe me, a ship's medic is the best thing that's happened to this place in a long time."

"Actually I'm an academically trained trauma surgeon," Simon pointed out. He had no idea why, really, and he regretted it almost instantly. Like there was anything wrong with being a ship's medic…

"Really?" She sounded surprised. "And you work on a _cargo ship_?"

He avoided looking at her as he replied. "Uh, yes, I… uh, I wanted to see the 'verse."

There was suddenly a whole new admiration in her eyes. "You chose to help people out here on the frontier instead of good pay and a life in luxury back in the Core. That's amazing."

He could have died. Instead he just smiled weakly at her.

"Anyway, I'm glad to have you," she said and patted his arm.

He managed to pull himself together and nodded. "I'll have a look at the patients now. See who's safe to move and who needs to be stabilized first. But they should all be prepped for evacuation as quick as possible."

"I'll help," Dicte offered. She had been walking a short step behind them the whole time, but hadn't raised her voice until now.

"Thank you," he said with a nod in her direction and rolled up his sleeves. "Let's get started."

A few hours later Simon learned that not everybody in town welcomed him. He was still busy conducting his triage, when the doors to the main dormitory flew open and an older Asian man stomped in, followed by several other angry-looking people. Simon was about to adjust the flow on one of the IV bags and was completely caught off guard when the old man grabbed him and shoved him into the wall. "You get away from them!" he snarled.

Simon's surprise and fear was soon replaced by anger. He hated it when people tried to keep him from helping others. He hated the lack of empathy.

"Look!" he spat out as he pried the man's hands away from his body. "I'm only trying to help. I'm a doctor."

"This is our town. You cannot force us out of it!"

"I'm not forcing anyone," Simon replied, still swatting at the man. "I'm just helping the sick."

"Let him go, Mayor!" Dicte cried.

"Shut your mouth, girl!" The mayor glanced around the room, eyeing the people there. "You're just gonna listen to these strangers 'cause this one's putting band-aids on your boo boos?"

"He's helped us a lot more than you ever have!" Dicte shouted back. "You're supposed to be our leader and yet you only lead us to our deaths, 'cause you're too stubborn or maybe too _stupid_ to recognize a helping hand when you're offered one!"

The mayor spun around and glared knives at the young woman, who to her credit didn't even flinch. "I told you to shut up!" He took a threatening step towards her.

"That's quite enough!" Book was suddenly in the room and he stepped in between the mayor and Dicte, staring the old man down. "The only one doing any forcing here now, is you, Mr Wong. You might be the mayor but you don't _own_ these people. They're free to go if they choose to."

Wong appeared to be weighing his options for a few moments, but then he just straightened and his face turned into a mask of arrogance. "Fine. But they can forget about ever coming back. They can stay and _rot_ in those caves."

He abruptly turned and walked out the room in the same manner as he had arrived, and his men followed him. Book sighed and turned to Simon. "You okay?"

Simon nodded. "_Hundan,_" he muttered.

"Yeah," Book agreed. "He's been giving Mal and Wash a hard time too, out on the landing pad. It's a miracle there hasn't been any violence yet. But even though he's slowed us down a little, he hasn't been able to stop us. The evacuation is well underway."

"Good. We're just about to finish up here. The last batch will be ready to leave soon."

"You should go with them, then," Book said. "We can drop you off at the ship now that your job is done."

Simon hesitated. "Actually, I think I should come with them to the caves, just for a little while. Some of these patients still need doctoring."

Book smiled a little. "I thought you were kinda anxious to get back to your sister."

Simon met his eyes and knew what the man was thinking. "I'm sure she'll be fine," he mumbled.

The shepherd said nothing, just kept smiling and patted him on the back as he left.

* * *

><p>Jayne was in the cargo bay doing pull-ups. He wouldn't let a broken leg keep him away from his workout; he'd already lost more than enough muscle tone after being bedridden for nearly two weeks, and he had been busy rebuilding it as soon as Simon would let him (or maybe even a little <em>before <em>that).

It was quiet on the ship without the others around, and Jayne wasn't a particular big fan of downtime because it made him think too much. Normally nobody would accuse him of being a pensive person, but he did have a lot on his mind these days, and he hated it.

Things had changed. Ever since New Lafayette they hadn't been the same. And he wasn't quite sure whether he liked those changes or not.

He couldn't seem to be able to shake the memories of hands. Hands that had wrapped him in blankets when he was cold, and then later when he was too hot, pulled the blankets off again and washed his skin with cool water. Hands that had pinched him with needles, but only to take the pain away.

Nobody had ever nursed him back to health before, except for his mother when he'd been down with the measles once as a child. In all the crews and gangs he'd ever run with nobody cared if you got sick or injured; you licked your own wounds and you either made it or you didn't, and if you slowed them down they left you.

But not this crew. They had come for him, taken him back to the ship, treated his injuries, put him to bed and stayed with him. Mostly Simon and Shepherd Book, but they had all been there at some point or another, Jayne was pretty sure about that.

And he didn't really know what to think of it.

It made him feel good, of course; there was a warm sensation spreading in his stomach whenever he relived those memories. But it also made him feel like he owed them something, like there was something he needed to prove now. And that was quite a stressful thought, to be honest.

He sat down at the weight bench, pausing a little to wipe his face, and his eyes wandered to River. She was in the bay with him, she had stayed close by him ever since the others left, not really bothering him though. She hadn't spoken a word, not stared at him with that creepy I-can-read-your-mind-and-know-all-your-dirty-secrets-look, just stayed in relatively close proximity minding her own business, whatever it was.

Now, for instance, she was slowly moving about the room, studying every object as if seeing them for first time. She stopped by the burnt-out, charred mule and tapped it with her index finger. Jayne shook his head and swallowed a mouthful of water. That mule was useless now; they really should buy a new one.

He snorted out loud. Yeah, buy a new one. With what? They weren't exactly swimming in coin these days. That's why they had stayed on Boros for so long, because there wasn't even enough money to fill the tanks. Mal had spent it all.

On medicine for him. Jayne was well aware of it. It was Kaylee who'd finally let it slip. She'd also told him that the captain had sought out Rufus Miller in Kuikui to confront him and then blown his brains out (as if he _had _one) when that gorram idiot had reached for his gun.

He guessed on one hand he really shouldn't be surprised. He'd seen what lengths Mal was willing to go to when it came to protect and help his crew. The captain would do anything for Zoë and Kaylee and Wash and Inara, hell, even for the Tams and the shepherd. It had just never occurred to him that he'd do it for _him_ as well, and just like the memories of nursing hands, the realization that he actually _had _was a little… disturbing. Whatever the case, Mal had never mentioned the incident and Jayne hadn't either and he was quite happy with keeping it that way.

Outside it kept on raining. Jayne had opened the cargo doors halfway to let in some air, and the thundering sound of water pouring down on the hull nearly drowned out everything else. River had stopped in front of the doors now, gazing upwards and out, and then she suddenly started swaying from side to side.

Jayne frowned. What was this now? He watched as she twirled around, a small smile on her face and her eyes closed. "What are you doing?" he asked and had to shout to be heard.

"I'm dancing," she replied. "Dancing to the music."

He listened. Except for the rain he heard nothing. "What music?"

"The music in the rain." She started humming.

He rolled his eyes, but managed to quell the urge to throw her a nasty remark. He picked up one of his dumbbells to continue his workout.

"Rain," she singsonged. "Rhymes with Jayne."

Again he bit back a snappy comment, and wondered if the doctor was coming back soon.

* * *

><p>Kaylee was getting desperate. It was morning now and she'd spent the whole night inside the dam's old, abandoned operation center, next to a big and dusty console, tapping at computers, tinkering with engines, unplugging and replugging wires, and she still hadn't been able to fix it. It was easy enough to understand how the gorram thing worked, she just couldn't get it to do what she wanted it to.<p>

She heard the sound of static and a muttered curse behind her and turned to see Zoë enter the room with the radio receiver in her hand. "Still no reception?" she asked.

Zoë shook her head. "Must be the weather. Any luck?"

"No," Kaylee sighed with a disapproving frown. "Don't think the problem's mechanical, though. It's more like the spillways have gotten stuck somehow, 'cause of the lack of maintenance, I guess."

"Maybe the pressure's just too great?" Zoë suggested. She smiled mildly at her. "Don't worry, Kaylee. People here have been trying to fix this thing for years; no one demands a miracle from you. You've done your best."

"Oh, I ain't given up yet."

She squatted down beside the console and went back to her work, and just then they heard footsteps in the hallway. "You in here, ladies?" Mal's voice called out.

"Here," Zoë hollered and the captain poked his head inside the door.

"How's it goin'?" he asked.

"No luck yet," Zoë replied.

Kaylee looked at him over her shoulder. "Sorry, Cap."

"No worries," he said. "We're all done with the evacs."

Zoë raised her eyebrows. "Already?"

"Yeah." His face darkened. "Only a thousand or so wanted to come."

Kaylee stared at him. "You mean to tell me half the town's still down there?"

"Yup. Inbred morons."

"Okay, now I _gotta _fix this thing."

"Kaylee…"

"No!" she snapped. "They'll all die if…" The rest of the words trailed away as she frantically tugged at the wires in another desperate attempt at getting the control panel to obey her.

Behind her Mal and Zoë continued their conversation. "I dropped Book and the doctor off at the caves," the captain said. "Wash is in town collecting the last of the supplies. I tried to radio you."

"Yeah, they're down," Zoë said.

"I realized. Couldn't reach the ship either."

"I'm sure they're okay."

"Yeah, and we're headin' back soon anyway. Just gotta…"

A low rumble followed by a loud squeaking sound made him stop dead in the middle of the sentence. "What was that?"

Kaylee glanced back at him again. "Oh, it's been doing that now and then."

Another rumble and another ear-piercing sound of grinding metal, and then the ground started shaking. "Not this loud, though," Kaylee added hesitantly.

Mal and Zoë rushed to the window and looked outside. "It's happening!" the captain yelled. "Come on!"

"No," Kaylee muttered and turned back towards the heap of wires she'd tried to make sense of.

The earth shook again, more violently. "Kaylee!" Mal yelled.

"There's a thousand people gonna die!" Kaylee shouted back. "I can't let them!"

His hands grabbed her, pulling her to her feet. "It's too late! Come on!"

Zoë led the way out of the building, Mal was right on her heels, dragging Kaylee along. The sound emitting from the dam was deafening now, as if the whole concrete construction was crying out in pain. The ground continued to shake and suddenly it started cracking, leaving a wide crevice in front of them. Kaylee didn't even have time to think before Mal more or less had thrown her across it and then jumped after her, pulling her back up. "Move! It's taking this cliff along with it!"

She scrambled along, heart pounding in her chest, adrenaline rushing through her veins, until the captain suddenly stopped and she realized they were out of harm's way. She turned back and was treated to the horrible sights before her. The dam broke in several places at once, with water shooting out of the growing cracks, and then it started crumbling.

And then Kaylee spotted the shuttle Mal had arrived in. It was parked only a few yards away from them, but where the ground had once been solid, it too was crumbling away now, and when the dam finally gave in and the water tumbled down the valley, it took the cliff and the operation center along with it. The shuttle, now suddenly at the very edge, balanced there for a few long moments before it fell into the roaring, white-foamed water and disappeared.

"No, no, _no_!" Mal yelled, and Kaylee caught herself wondering about something so trivial as how they were going to get back home to the ship, now when they were trapped on the wrong side of the river with no means of crossing it. Then she remembered that there was another shuttle, and _then _the full realization hit her and an icy cold knot appeared in her stomach.

_"Wash is in town collecting the last of the supplies."_

Her head snapped up, looking at Zoë, and she knew the first mate had come to the same conclusion. She stared out into the rain, her eyes desperately searching, but there wasn't much to see and nothing that could be done. All they could do was listen.

And the ground shook and the water roared past them, engulfing the valley, the town, close to a thousand souls, the last shuttle – and Wash.

* * *

><p>Back on <em>Serenity <em>River screamed.


	5. Chapter 5

Jayne nearly jumped out of his skin when River's sudden scream pierced the silence, and as his heart slowly found its way back to its normal rhythm again, he gritted his teeth. After all he should have expected something like this.

True enough, the girl had been on her best behavior the time they'd been alone. Jayne had been a little worried about her flipping out when her brother had not returned the night before like he'd said he would, but she hadn't. She'd stayed calm and quiet, and she'd retreated to the passenger dorm by her own accord when it was time for bed.

Jayne had gone to catch some sleep too, wondering a little what kept the others but not really worrying. He knew they could take care of themselves. He'd unceremoniously lowered himself down the ladder to his bunk and fallen asleep almost instantly, fully clothed, and at no point during the night had he heard anything out of the ordinary, except for the fact that it was a lot quieter than usual.

He hadn't bothered to set the alarm, but he'd still woken up early. Getting up was hard these days. His leg always felt cold and dead in the morning and his aching muscles and joints needed time to get warm and flexible, and it all made him feel like an old man. He'd rolled out of bed with a groan and hobbled to the sink to splash some water on his face, but his shirt didn't smell too bad so he hadn't bothered changing it. Then he'd started on the task of getting out of his quarters. He'd thrown the crutches out first and then he'd hoisted himself up and soon found himself ungracefully sprawled on the floor in the hallway. Usually Book would help him at this point – which was fine because he was discreet and never made much fuss about it – but he wasn't here now and Jayne had had to struggle a little to get up on his healthy leg, glad River hadn't been there to see him.

She'd walked into the galley half an hour later while he was whipping up some breakfast, not even offering him as much as a nod or a glance. She'd just circled the room and then pulled out a chair and sat down. And _then_ – as Jayne turned his back at her again to concentrate on his cooking – she'd screamed.

He spun around, his heart still in his throat, his hand reaching for a gun that (luckily?) wasn't there. "Gorramit, girl! What _is _it?"

She didn't answer. She only scrambled to her feet and started pacing the floor, increasingly faster, wailing and tugging at her hair.

"Is it the dam? Did it break?" he tried to ask, remembering her special talent for knowing such things. "Are the others okay?"

He tried to grab her as she walked by, but she shied away from him, throwing her arm up as if to protect herself or to swat at him or something, and went to the lounge area. There she crawled up into a chair, drew her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and started rocking back and forth, a low whimper escaping her now and then.

He just watched her for a while. It didn't look like she was noticing him at all, but when he grabbed his crutches and tried to move in closer, her wails grew louder and he concluded that she probably needed or wanted some alone-time.

And so he did the only thing he knew how to – he walked away. Leaving the still untouched food, he turned and headed for the bridge where he switched the radio on and tried to hail the others. He got only static, which didn't really surprise him because he'd tried to call them several times already and he knew communications was down. He considered going on the Cortex, but discarded the idea. He wouldn't reach them that way anyway and he only risked drawing unwanted attention to the boat. And Mal would kill him for that.

Leaning back in Wash's pilot chair, he cursed out loud. Apparently today wasn't turning out all that good.

* * *

><p>The trek to the caves was a long, wet and somber one. Mal led the way, with Kaylee trotting quietly in his steps, though whenever he glanced at her over his shoulder he saw that she was crying. Zoë was further behind. He couldn't always make out her still stoic frame through the downpour, but he sensed her presence quite strongly. It was something he'd always been able to, ever since their time together in the war. There was this <em>connection <em>between the two of them that none of them were able to explain, but they had both learned to trust it over the years. He knew he should probably say something to her, but he also knew she wasn't ready for words, at least not the kind about feelings; he could feel it radiating off her even at this distance. There would be a time for comfort, but this was not it.

They had a little difficulty finding the right trail – Mal hadn't traveled this road by foot before – but they eventually reached the entrance to the caves and crawled inside and stepped into the main mountain dome. It was one of many, connected by an impressive web of winding tunnels. The locals had used them for shelter when they'd first colonized the moon, Torsten had told Mal, and now they were once again swarming with life. There were people everywhere, huddled together, and judging by the sound of shushed crying and the overall solemn atmosphere they already knew that what they'd all feared now had actually occurred.

Torsten was there to greet them. He had obviously been waiting and when he spotted them he looked positively relieved and opened his mouth. Before he was able to say anything though, Shepherd Book emerged from the crowd and hurried up to them. "Thank God!" he exclaimed. "We feared the worst."

"So you know, then?" Mal mumbled.

"Oh, we _felt_ it." The shepherd's face was grave and he seemed shaken. "The ground was trembling something terrible."

"And our scouts confirmed it," Torsten added with a heavy sigh, and the rest of his words came out in little, unfinished sentences. "There's nothing left… Just water… All those people… Neighbors… Friends… Such a tragedy."

Mal didn't answer.

Just then Simon arrived from somewhere further inside the cave. He was pale and his eyes were so wide with fear and worry that it looked like they were going to pop out of his head. "Where _were _you? What took you so long?"

He received no answer either.

Zoë hadn't said a word. She had turned away from them, and she kept staring at the entrance they'd just come through. Mal could see she was tense, almost determined, as if she was trying to conjure up something.

Book had finally noticed. "Where's Wash?"

Kaylee started crying again, which of course was as good an answer to his question as anything. He looked at Zoë and reached out a hand to touch her, but she must have felt it coming because she stepped out of his reach, making it clear she didn't want his sympathy at this point. Instead he bowed his head, presumably to pray.

Simon shifted his gaze between Zoë and Mal, taking in their soaked clothes, and then he glanced at the entrance. "The shuttle?" His voice was thick.

"We lost that too," Mal muttered.

"So how are we going to get back to the ship?"

"We're not. The bridge is gone, and we can't cross the river. We're stuck here."

Simon stared at him as if he couldn't quite believe it. "But River…" He swallowed hard, unable to complete the sentence.

Kaylee glanced up at him, assurance suddenly back in her eyes. "Jayne will look after her," she said, and when he seemed to not react to this, she reached out and touched his hand. "Simon, he _will._"

Mal turned to look at Zoë again. She had sat down on a crate close to the entrance and she kept her eyes unwaveringly focused on the rain outside, as if keeping a faithful vigil. She cried no tears, her face was cleared of all emotion, and yet he felt her pain as if it was his own. And in a way it was.

Torsten was suddenly by his side. "I'm sorry," he said, and the empathy in his voice sounded genuine.

"Yeah," Mal sighed. "I lost my pilot and both my shuttles, and I'm cut off from my ship. Today is not my favorite day ever."

"You also _saved _more than a thousand lives. Children..." Torsten gestured to a group of kids playing nearby. "If you can find _any_ comfort in our gratitude, please do." And with a pat on his shoulder he left him.

Mal shook his head. Maybe _someday _that would be of some consolation to him. Today… not so much.

* * *

><p>The 'verse was gradually coming back into view. Wash just wasn't sure what <em>part<em> of the 'verse it was. It was a small room of some kind, dark except for a few blinking lights, and it looked strange but at the same time somewhat familiar. Something was pressing against his waist and his shoulder, making it a little difficult to breathe correctly, and his head felt extremely heavy, and it suddenly dawned on him that he was hanging upside down from the roof.

And then in a moment of clarity he realized that this 'room' was in fact one of _Serenity_'s shuttles, and he wasn't hanging from the roof, he was _looking _at it, dangling in the safety belts of his pilot chair.

"_Wo de ma he ta de fengkuang de waisheng dou,_" he muttered, as his memories slowly returned to him. He remembered making one last trip to the settlement to pick up some supplies. He'd just loaded the goods and strapped into his seat when he'd heard this deafening rumble, and he could clearly recall that awful moment when he'd realized what it was. He wasn't quite sure what had happened after that. He had some vague memories about trying to outrun (or out_fly_) the huge wave of water closing in on him.

Apparently he hadn't succeeded.

He should be dead. Then again, he clearly wasn't. Or if so, the afterlife was a strange place indeed.

Still hanging upside down, he looked out through the front window. He saw nothing, only more darkness.

Weird.

Adrenalin rushed through him, snapping his body out of its temporary reverie, and he fumbled with his seat belts, contemplating the lucky coincidence that he was actually using them, as he normally wouldn't have bothered. Finally managing to unfasten them, he fell to the floor – sorry, _roof – _and yelped a little when his knee impacted with it.

Closer to the window now, he had another go at trying to see whatever was outside. He couldn't make out much and the questions only kept coming. Where was he? Why was it so dark? Was it nighttime already? Had he been out _that _long?

Groaning at the pain in his knee he sat back, trying to collect his thoughts, pondering his options.

Radio!

He glanced upwards, scrambled to his feet with another cry of pain and reached for the com. He just managed to grab it and pushed the button. "Hello? Zoë? Mal? Anyone?"

Just static. Well, of course! It hadn't worked earlier, why would it work _now_? With all this water…

_Water?_

And then it dawned on him and he slowly turned back towards the window as the realization fully hit him.

He was _under water_!

It was as if the walls of the little shuttle were suddenly creaking and squeaking a lot louder and he desperately searched the window for any cracks. There weren't any. "Don't panic, Wash," he muttered to himself, steadying his breathing. "After all, these things are built to withstand the vacuum of space, so what's a little water, huh?"

His knee hurt, so he sat back down to wait it out. It was all he could do now anyway.

"Don't panic," he repeated his new mantra and pulled his arms close to his chest. "Don't panic."

* * *

><p>The hours crept by and Jayne had tried anything to make them pass faster. He'd lifted weights, checked the cargo and even tinkered a little with the busted mule (though Kaylee would probably yell at him for doing that). Now he had hauled his favorite guns to the galley to give them a good cleaning. Not that they <em>needed <em>it, but he'd do anything to keep his mind occupied and this was one activity that always did the trick for him.

River was still sitting in the lounge. He had checked in on her a few times now and then during the day and left the food on the kitchen counter, hoping she would have the mind to help herself to it, but as far as he could tell she had not moved from her spot at all. She had quieted down a little, though; she wasn't crying or screaming anymore. Now there was this distant gaze in her hazy eyes, and it just seemed like she had withdrawn from the 'verse completely.

Probably not a good thing.

Jayne bit back a curse, longing for the days when he hadn't let this bother him.

Before Ariel.

Before the hands.

This was Simon's sister, and as much as he hated the thought, he owed the doctor.

"You know, you really should eat something," he said. He propped one of his crutches up against the counter, grabbed an open can of beans with his now free hand and moved to place it on the table in front of her. And as he did so he had to lean a little on his broken leg to catch his balance.

Her head snapped up. "No walking on the cast!"

He was totally caught off guard by the sudden outburst and almost lost his balance completely. "_What_?"

"Simon said."

"Simon ain't here," he spat back, a little annoyed. "Or what, you gonna tell on me?"

She only kept staring at him. Oh God, how he hated that piercing glare. But he didn't want to provoke her any further, so a little reluctantly he relented. "Okay, I'll use the crutches. See?" He put the can back on the counter, grabbed the crutch and took the weight off his leg again. "Happy?"

"It's not for me, it's for you," she simply stated.

With a snort he dumped down on a chair and watched as she got to her feet and walked over to the counter to pick up the can herself. "Nutrition very important," she said. "Good of him to remember."

He rolled his eyes and tried to focus his concentration on his guns instead.

For a long while they were both quiet – she ate her beans in silence and only threw him a wary look once in a while – but suddenly she stiffened and her head slowly turned around to face the hatch leading towards the bridge. "We're not alone," she whispered.

Something in her voice and the look on her face made him bite back the instinctive snappy comment. He'd seen that look before and he didn't like it – it usually meant her spidey senses were kicking in. "Whatta ya mean? The others comin' back?"

Her eyes grew wider. "No."

With a frown and one last warning look in her direction, he grabbed his crutches and moved slowly out of the galley to the hallway, and already as he was making his way towards the bridge he heard the sound of muffled voices from the cargo bay beneath.

In a flashing memory he saw himself open the cargo bay doors a little to let in some fresh air while he was working out, but he didn't see himself closing them again, and he felt his face flush with embarrassment and anger as he realized that somebody had taken advantage of that little mishap.

Mal was gonna _have his head!_


	6. Chapter 6

Book busied himself with helping organizing the distribution of supplies. He had always been a practical man, and experience had taught him that when it came to consoling people in grief practical help was often the best consolation one could offer. And while handing out blankets and bars of protein to the people now making themselves a home in the caves, he discreetly observed Torsten Norby, who was nearby doing the same thing. He saw how people seemed to flock around the man now, they looked to him for guidance and assurance, and Book wasn't surprised. After all it had been Torsten who had talked them all into evacuating the town and thus saved their lives, and the mayor – Wong – was gone now, buried under millions of gallons of water, together with his followers.

Book was only saddened by that thought. Despite all the harsh words he'd endured, it gave him no satisfaction whatsoever to be proven right, and he had prayed for them, for all those lost souls. They hadn't been evil, only misguided, and out here on the rim you couldn't really blame people for not trusting strangers. And now they were all dead; men, women, children…

And Wash… God rest his soul.

Zoë was still sitting on the crate by the entrance. Book had tried talking to her on a few occasions, but even though she hadn't exactly yelled at him she'd made it pretty clear that these attempts weren't welcome. He cast her another long glance and sighed heavily.

"The pilot was her husband?" Torsten was suddenly beside him and he spoke in a soft whisper.

"Yeah."

"I'm so sorry. She didn't deserve this."

"No." Book looked at him. "None of you did."

They turned and walked further inside the cave to take a little breather by one of the fires that had been lit there. "I've been thinking a lot about it," Torsten said as he poured them both a cup of coffee. "About how you just happened to show up the day before the dam broke. Never thought of myself as an religious man, but… Do you think your God sent you here? To save us?"

Book waited a little before answering. "I… I'm not sure if I hope that's the case."

Torsten frowned. "No?"

"Because then I would have to question God for not letting me save _all_ of you."

"So you don't think he smites the wicked?" There was a certain tone in Torsten's voice that strongly suggested he didn't believe this himself.

"These people weren't wicked." Book answered the question nevertheless. "And the God I believe in isn't like that. Bad things happen, to good people and to bad people alike. It's just the way things are."

"Then… what's the point with having a God?"

Book glanced at him. "Well, that's a hard question," he admitted. "And there's a million right answers to it."

They sat in silence for a while, drinking their coffee, and it was Book who in the end reignited the conversation.

"What will you do now?" he asked.

"Well." Torsten shrugged. "I managed to send a wave for aid over the Cortex before we evacuated. Hopefully _somebody _in the Alliance will care enough to send someone. Until then… We should have enough supplies to sustain us for a couple of months or so." He sighed and stretched his legs out in front of him. "You know, I was already putting aside money for my ticket outta here."

"Yeah?" Book raised his eyebrows. "Any particular place you were planning to go?"

Torsten nodded. "Haven. A moon orbiting Deadwood in the Blue Sun system. I have a cousin living there, in a small mining community. Nothing much, but he says they're good folk and they're always looking for welders."

"Sounds nice."

"Yeah." He laughed a little bitterly. "Compared to this gorram rock most places would seem nice, I guess. Don't get me wrong, these are good people too." He gestured around the cave with his hand. "But you get so tired of… well, everything else."

Book smiled a little and understood perfectly what he meant. He himself had spent no more than two days on this moon and he already knew he didn't want to live on it. "You can still get to Haven," he said.

Torsten met his eyes and returned the smile, then lifted his coffee mug in a salute.

* * *

><p>Jayne went back to the kitchen as silently as he could. There he closed and bolted both the doors and took up guard by the one he'd walked in through. He peered through the small window at the hallway outside and then turned and swept his gaze across the room, trying to decide what to do next.<p>

River kept watching him, her brown eyes were wide and seemingly lucid and followed his every move. "They'll take the cargo," she said. "And then they'll go away."

"Can't let 'em take the cargo," Jayne replied without looking at her. "It's worth a gorram fortune!"

"You'll protect it." It didn't sound like a question, the way she said it.

"You bet," he snarled. "My ten percent _and _my head is at stake here."

He threw a glance at his guns resting on the kitchen table. "Got my hardware," he thought out loud. "But I need more ammo. Need to get to my bunk." He checked the hallway again. It looked clear.

Only one problem…

With a muffled curse and against his better judgment, he glanced at her sideways and met her eyes. "I'll make too much noise."

She simply nodded. "I won't."

He hesitated for another moment or two, but then gritted his teeth and hobbled over to the table. After all, it was high time the girl earned her keep around here.

He rummaged through his weapons, carefully choosing the right ones. Vera was out of the question, she was too big and bulky for him in his current condition, and in the end he went for a smaller assault rifle and his two LeMat revolvers. He held up the cartridges to show River what he needed. "These… and these. Got it?"

"Two-twenty-three Remington for assault rifle and rounds for point forty-two caliber sidearm," she muttered. "Got it."

He raised his eyebrows. Not bad. But this was not the time to compliment her and nor did he really want to, so he just headed back to the door and opened it for her. "They're in a box underneath my bed, okay?"

"Okay."

She slipped under the arm he held the door open with and moved to step outside, but he reached out his casted leg and stopped her with it. "Don't go snoopin' through my stuff!" he hissed.

She said nothing, only waited until he'd removed his leg and then walked lightly down the hallway, and he watched as she opened the hatch and disappeared down the ladder.

It didn't take her all that long, but for Jayne it felt like a small eternity had passed before she reappeared and came towards him carrying the boxes of ammunition, with that same somewhat emotionless look still on her face.

"Good," he whispered as he snatched the boxes from her hands and started filling his belt and pockets with the ammo. "Now stay here inside the kitchen. Hide. Don't come out 'til I call ya, _dong ma?_"

She gave no reply, but stepped back from the doorway until her tiny body was pressed against the wall inside the room. He holstered his revolvers and strapped the rifle to his chest. Then he took a deep breath and left the galley.

He felt a little silly going to war on crutches, but if the people in the cargo bay were just as stupid as he hoped they were, he could probably still take them. He reached the end of the hallway and turned left towards the bay, and very carefully popped his head around the corner to have a look at the situation.

At first he saw no one. But he heard them. Voices talking and discussing and the scraping sound of crates being moved. He silently moved out unto the gallery, and as he reached the banister, he spotted the men.

There were three of them that he could see. Ragged, dirty lookin' sons of bitches. They had opened the cargo bay doors and were already in the process of unloading the goods, and Jayne felt his anger rise another notch. Over his dead body!

Luckily the corner where he stood was a good vantage point. He had known this, as he had used it several times in the past. You could see most of the bay, and the banister and a crate standing there provided you with cover if you should need it.

He steadied himself.

Warning first.

He cocked his rifle and the miscreants' heads snapped up to face him. "Hey!" he yelled at them. "Drop that cargo and leave this ship if you value your _gou cao de _lives!"

They _did _drop the cargo, but only to draw their own guns and fire at him. Apparently _not _so stupid, then.

He just managed to send a handful of bullets in return before he had to drop down to take cover. None of his rounds hit target and he muttered a curse. Now they had him pinned down, because his gorram leg had stripped him of all his normal maneuverability.

And if they discovered that, he would truly be humped.

* * *

><p>At first Wash thought it was only his eyes getting used to the darkness, but eventually he allowed himself to really believe that the room was in fact getting lighter. That tiny spark of hope kicked his body into action, and he crawled over to the window and got down on his back to have a good look outside and upwards.<p>

He squinted.

Yes?

Yes!

He couldn't believe his luck and he actually laughed out loud as he lay there. He had feared that the shuttle was resting at the bottom of a deep lake or perhaps even the ocean itself, but now he could see that this was not the case. From what little he could make out, it seemed he was still somewhere along the river. It made sense really, now that he thought of it. The wave of water released from the broken dam had swept down the valley but now that it had passed, the water levels were again dropping. And that meant that most of the top… er, _bottom _of the shuttle was now visible above the surface.

He could also see that the little ship was tangled in a bunch of roots or branches or debris of some kind that obviously had prevented it from following the stream any further.

Damn lucky, indeed.

If it hadn't been for the relenting pain in his knee he would have done a little dance to celebrate. He was going to be rescued! _Serenity _would pick up the shuttle's homing beacon and the others would find him here.

Maybe he could even climb outside? He sat up and moved a little to check out that possibility.

And then suddenly the whole shuttle shifted as one of the roots, or branches, or whatever, gave way.

* * *

><p>Kaylee couldn't help but envy Simon a little. At least he was of some use to the locals. He had patients to see to, family members to comfort and nurses to order around, all perfect distractions from the somber reality around them, whereas she was just sitting there with nothing to do but grieving and worrying.<p>

She saw Shepherd Book move about the cave, exchanging a few words with people now and then, Zoë was still keeping watch by the entrance – so far nothing had been able to distract her from that task – and she had no idea where Mal had gone. Probably to find some corner to himself (if that was even possible in here), to battle his own demons.

Dicte sat down next to her, nudged her a little with her elbow and tried to smile. "We'll be okay," she said, and truth be told the young woman actually looked a lot happier now than what she had when Kaylee first met her, as if a burden had been lifted off her.

She glanced over her shoulder at the area where Simon was working and moved in closer. "I've been meaning to ask you, is he yours?"

Kaylee frowned, surprised at the question. "Mine? Who?"

"The doctor," Dicte specified. "Is he yours?"

Kaylee felt her cheeks flush. "Huh… No, not really, no."

Dicte's face broke into a smile. "Good!"

"Wha… What? Whatta ya mean?"

"Well, if he was yours I wouldn't wanna get in the way, you know. But if he ain't yours nor anyone else's, then I guess he's fair game, huh?" And with that she stood and walked over to Simon with a flirtatious smile gracing her lips.

Kaylee needed a few moments to recover from the initial shock, but then she made a face and glared daggers at the other woman's back. Apparently she'd been wrong when she'd thought this day couldn't get any worse.

Her dark thoughts were interrupted by a sudden commotion in the cave. It started near one of the many tunnels leading into the dome and spread from there. People shouted and got to their feet, flocking around a figure making his way across the floor. Dicte and Simon had also turned around to see what was going on and the young woman paled at the sight.

"Mayor Wong, you're alive!" she exclaimed.

Kaylee's eyes widened. It _was _that awful mayor. He stood there in front of her, very much alive indeed. He ignored Dicte and addressed the whole room when he spoke. "Yes, I am." His voice was icy cold. "I heard that the strangers were at the dam and so I went to investigate. I was still in the hills when it broke."

A few people muttered but otherwise it was dead silent in the cave now. In the corner of her eye Kaylee saw Book making his way through the crowd.

Wong suddenly spun around and pointed a quivering finger at her. "It was _her!_" he shouted, and she flinched under his angry glare. "She was there. She did something to it!" He took another step in her direction. "Murderer!"


	7. Chapter 7

Mal pushed his way through a crowd that was no longer quiet; some of the people had started yelling and shouting. They sounded angry, but he wasn't sure _who _exactly their anger was aimed at – if it was Kaylee or the _jingchang meiyong de_ of a mayor. Whatever the case, he could feel there was a lot of tension on the rise and he needed to quell it before it escalated out of control.

He reached the front line just as Book did the same from the opposite side and Kaylee finally found her voice. "I only tried to help," she squeaked.

Wong wasn't listening. He was only steaming in his own rage, and he took another threatening step towards her. Mal stepped forward to intercept him and so did Book, while Simon had arrived and defiantly took up guard next to their young mechanic.

Wong shifted his attention to Mal now. "Why?" he screamed before the captain had a chance to say anything. "Why wouldn't you just leave us alone?"

"Oh, believe me, I've asked myself that question many a time," Mal replied. "If we had I'd be on my spaceship right now, sailin' through the Black without a worry. And you would _all_ be dead."

The mayor was not impressed. "You killed them!" he shouted. "You made this happen!"

"We did _not_!" Mal yelled back, losing his last bit of patience. "She" – he gestured towards Kaylee who had gotten to her feet and sought protection closer to Simon – "tried to open the spillways to save your gorram lives. And she worked _hard _at it! She wouldn't give up, I had to pull her outta there."

Wong spun around to seek support from his people. "They're tellin' lies!"

Mal was ready to give the little weasel another piece of his mind, but Book gave him a look that urged him not to and he bit back his words and let the preacher speak instead.

"Please see reason," Book pleaded with the mayor. "Whatever your opinion is, it don't matter now. These are your people, they're grieving and they need your comfort and guidance, not you stirrin' up hostility."

The mayor only glared at him. "Shut up, preacher! If that's what you really are."

"I understand you're upset," Book continued, his voice impressively calm. "But we didn't make this happen. We just couldn't prevent it."

"So the fact that it broke just after you showed up was a rare coincidence?" Wong spat back.

Mal shook his head. Seeing as words seemed to have no effect whatsoever on this guy, he had a look at the rest of the people instead. Their facial expressions showed mostly confusion and reluctance, but anger graced more than a few of them now.

And the cave seemed like an even smaller place.

* * *

><p>Wash held his breath until his vision swam, and then – as the moment of horror passed and was replaced by a moment of clarity – it dawned on him that he would have to rescue himself. There would be no time to wait for the others (and he didn't really know if they would come at all, did he?); whatever was holding this shuttle in its place was about to give in.<p>

That meant he needed an escape plan and he looked around for something to inspire him, and his gaze eventually ended up on the pilot stick. Standing up he could reach it, even if it was upside down.

Could he fly to safety? Could it really be that simple?

Of course it couldn't!

It was probably one of the craziest ideas he had ever had, and even _if _it worked it meant he would have to conduct some of the craziest flying he had ever conducted, and that was saying something. So for a while he dismissed it.

But then another twig (or whatever) outside snapped and the shuttle tilted a little further, and he knew he was out of options.

"Well, Wash," he told himself. "You're always boasting 'bout how you can fly this thing in your sleep. I'm sure flying it upside down will be a cinch."

He closed his eyes, cursing under his breath. _Renci de Fozu_, he was gonna die! But at least this way he would die flying.

* * *

><p>Jayne waited for a pause in the rattling sound of guns being fired, and every time it happened he jumped to his feet to send a hail of bullets back at his opponents. Well, <em>jumped <em>was an exaggeration; it was more like hoisting himself up into a semi-standing position, and then trying to keep his balance on one foot, leaning against the banister as he fired his rifle. It wasn't very effective and he never managed to fire that many rounds before he had to plop down behind the crate again. So far he hadn't hit any of the rutting lowlifes (or at least he hadn't heard any screaming that suggested he had). It was frustrating and tiring, and he yelled out in irritation as he dove (or rather fell) for cover for the umpteenth time.

Then he yelled out in surprise.

Because River was there.

He hadn't heard her arrive but she was suddenly right next to him, hunkered down and her eyes all wide and attentive.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed and after a couple of seconds to get his bearings, he added with a hiss, "What the hell? Whatta ya doin' here? I told ya to stay in the galley!"

She only cast him a short glance and then popped her head around him and the corner of the crate to access the situation in the bay below.

"Get back here!" he said and physically pulled her down behind the crate again. "And get back to the kitchen. If sumthin' happens to you your ruttin' brother will… Well, he can't kill me, 'cause the cap'n already has 'cause I lost the cargo. But he can desecrate my body! Yeah, that's what he'll do. Cut me open like a gorram Reaver…"

"Too much cover," she simply stated.

"Oh, you _think?_" he replied sarcastically, realizing she meant the men in the cargo bay. "Without it I'd've offed them by now."

"Must lure them out. Need diversion."

He stuck to the sarcasm. "Yeah, I tried tellin' 'em to come out and take a look at the nekkid lady. Didn't help." And then he suddenly realized what she was getting at, and he snapped his head back towards her. "Oh, hell no, you ain't even thinkin' that!"

For a short moment a mask of peace and calmness fell across her face, and there was a new shimmer in her eyes as they met his and a subtle smile lurking in the corner of her mouth. "The eagle can't fly," she said. "She can."

And before he could stop her, she jumped to her feet and ran down the gallery alongside the room. The men in the bay shouted and fired their guns, and Jayne watched – first in horror and then in amazement – how she dodged the bullets by leaping into the air like a wildcat and flipping her body one-eighty degrees midway through the jump.

She landed softly on her bare feet and reached a spot of temporary cover near the other side of the bay unscathed. And then Jayne remembered _why_ she was doing this, and he scrambled back up on his uninjured leg to use the distraction she was providing to its full advantage.

* * *

><p>"He's got a point," somebody said. "It <em>is<em> a little strange that it should happen just now."

Others muttered their agreement. "Why couldn't she open the spillways?" one asked.

Kaylee heard the question. "I think they were rusted shut," she answered. Her voice trembled. "But I tried, I really, really did. You _must _believe me." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I sure wish I could've helped you."

Simon put his hand on her shoulder to steady and console her, while he scanned the crowd moving in on them, keeping a sharp lookout for trouble. The mayor scared him, even from this distance the doctor could see that his pupils were dilated. This was a man completely out of his mind.

"You killed them!" he repeated. "You killed them all!"

"No," Kaylee sobbed.

Simon pulled her closer and glared at the old man. "You're a lunatic," he simply stated.

And then everything happened at once: several people started shouting, there was some pushing and shoving in the crowd, and for a moment Simon was really worried that things would get violent.

"For heaven's sake!" Book exclaimed.

"My wife!" screamed Wong. "My sons and my grandchildren! All gone!"

The sudden sound of a gunshot shattered the air, and people screamed and hunkered down covering their heads as bits and pieces from the stone ceiling overhead rained down on them.

* * *

><p>With River moving about the cargo bay like a shadow, popping up here and there, creating confusion, the three miscreants hiding among the crates now had to split their attention between her and Jayne, and that gave the mercenary the room he needed to make up for his diminished maneuverability. He changed his position and moved a little further down the gallery. There he let the muzzle of his rifle rest on the banister to steady it, and simply waited for his chance.<p>

The girl was impossible to keep track of. One moment she was balancing on the railings or tiptoeing lightly among the cargo below, the next she seemed to just disappear into thin air. Mostly they only heard her; she was constantly humming the tune of some old folk song.

"Come out!" the men had started shouting. "Show yourself, you freak!"

Somewhere River was laughing, and Jayne almost snickered a little to himself. He knew very well, by firsthand experience, how annoyed these men had to be by now.

And one of them actually took the bait. "I'll getcha, you hear?" he shouted as he popped up from behind one of the crates. "And I'ma rape you so hard that you…"

He never got to finish, because he stepped right into Jayne's scope and his body was ripped apart by a hail of bullets. His companions cried out in anger, but up on the gallery Jayne grinned to himself as he dropped down to reload.

One down, two to go.

* * *

><p>The crowd scattered and revealed Zoë standing there, still pointing her newly fired shotgun at the roof. Her eyes were flaming with anger as she pierced the mayor with her death-defying glare.<p>

"And _my _husband!" she sneered. "D'you really think we'd drop all that water on our own people? Cut ourselves off from our ship on purpose? For what? Ain't nothin' here worth havin'."

She let her gaze sweep across the room, searching for someone daring to challenge her. No one did. Even Wong seemed afraid of her as she let her eyes come to a rest on him once again. "The Alliance did this to you, to _us. _I won't have you blamin' Kaylee. Put the blame where it belongs."

For a moment it seemed like everything would quiet down. Nobody spoke, several shoulders slumped, and a few people warily started walking away. Zoë uncocked her gun and dropped the arm holding it, then made half a turn as if to leave.

Mal was about to say something when Mayor Wong suddenly screamed like a raving madman. "Kill them! Kill them!"

Somehow he had gotten his hands on a knife and he held up as he ran towards Kaylee and Simon, who both flinched at the sudden attack.

"They must die!" Wong yelled, and Mal reached for his gun, but then another shot rang out and the mayor's body jerked and fell forward and landed on the stone floor, stone dead.

People screamed and gasped, and Mal spun around to look at Zoë, but she clearly wasn't the one who had fired the shot. Instead she was looking at Torsten who stood there in front of the crowd, with his still smoking rifle in his hands.

First he only stared at the body with an expressionless face, but then he straightened his back and addressed his people. "He tried to divide us, to sow seeds of mistrust and hate. It's the last thing we need right now." His eyes met Mal's. "We're sorry."

"As far as I see it he only spoke for himself," Mal replied and received a nod of gratitude in return.

Then Torsten turned his gaze towards Book, and for a while the two men only stood there looking at each other. The preacher's face was a mixture of sadness and sympathy but he said nothing, and in the end Torsten just dropped his weapon and walked away.

* * *

><p>Jayne had no idea where River was at this point, and obviously neither did the man he was aiming at. He was moving from one sheltered spot behind a crate to another, clearly searching for the girl, and Jayne had followed his every move through the scope of his rifle for a while now, waiting for the clear shot, just like he'd done with the first one.<p>

"Can't catch her," River's voice giggled somewhere, but the sound echoed off the steel walls and made it impossible to pinpoint exactly from where it originated. But it did the trick and it provoked the fool just enough for him to venture just a little too far out into the open.

It took only a single shot to the head to bring him down.

There was no time to celebrate that second kill. Rifle at the ready, Jayne looked around, searching the bay high and low. He still couldn't see River anywhere, and only now did he realize that he had also lost sight of the third guy.

Not good.

Bending down he picked up one of his crutches, and with the help of that and the banister he carefully made his way down the gallery, still scanning the room for any movement.

Everything was quiet for a while; Jayne only heard his own heavy breathing – and for a short glorious moment he dared hope that the last thief had decided to make a run for it. But then he heard someone step out unto the gallery behind him, and by the sound it made he knew he wasn't River.

It actually annoyed him more than it frightened him.

He spun around, raising his weapon, even though he knew it was too late; he wouldn't be fast enough. And a shot rang out, and his rifle and his crutch went clattering to the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

Jayne held on to the banister with his left hand with such a grip that his knuckles whitened. He was trying to find out where he was hit, where it hurt, when he, frowning in confusion, saw how a cloud of blood came bursting out of his shooter's forehead like a fountain, and even after that it still took him a few seconds to realize that he wasn't hit at all. The miscreant had never fired his gun and now as he dropped to the floor like an empty sack, it was pretty clear that he wouldn't get a chance to – ever again.

Still a little shocked and confused, Jayne tore his eyes away from the body and looked up.

And found River.

She was hanging by her feet, dangling from a pipe above the catwalk a couple of yards behind the spot where the would-be cargo thief had been standing, upside down and with a smoking gun in her hand, and for a very long moment the two of them just looked at each other, both a little warily.

Then she swung herself upwards and jumped down in front of him, before she quickly put the weapon down by his feet. "No touching guns," she said, looking almost ashamed and embarrassed.

He was suddenly aware that his body was sagging, and with a grunt he grabbed the railings with his right hand as well and pulled himself up, still holding her gaze. "Well," he exhaled, "I won't tell if you don't."

She gave him a smile that he didn't return; flicking his fingers, he only gestured to his crutch still lying there a little out of his reach. "Now gimme a hand, will ya?"

* * *

><p>Wash could only guess whether the shuttle's thrusters were above water or not. The only way for him to find out was to turn the engines on. Or to <em>try <em>to turn the engines on, because if the thrusters happened to be _below_ the surface then the engines probably wouldn't work, and neither would his plan. And whatever the case, he would only get one chance and one chance only. With the thrusters on, the shuttle would move – which of course was the whole idea – but even the slightest movement could possibly make it sink as well.

With his hand ready on the ignition stick and taking a moment to gather his senses, he glanced around the cockpit one last time and found his thoughts almost unconsciously drifting towards Inara. Until recently this had been her home, though it bore little resemblance to the place of comfort and elegance it had been then. And yet, for some reason, the very thought of the dark-haired woman actually seemed to calm him.

The homes of companions simply did not sink.

For a brief moment he was perfectly convinced that this was undeniably true. And in that moment he acted.

He flipped the ignition stick and – yes, he was in luck – the engines roared to life. The whole shuttle shook and tilted even further. But he managed to catch his balance and with a snarl of determination he turned on the forward thrusters and put the shuttle in reverse. He needed to wiggle it out of the debris trapping it.

The walls creaked and water splashed upon the front window, but Wash's sole focus was concentrated on the dashboard. His hands flew over the controls; his fingers found the right knobs and buttons by instinct, even from this unfamiliar angle. He grabbed the yoke, switched power to the aft thrusters and tried to force the shuttle up, which actually meant _down _in this case.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he muttered through his clenched teeth, and then, with a loud snap he was suddenly free of the branches and the nose of the shuttle broke through the surface. With a primal scream he was only half aware came from himself, he gave full throttle forward, and the next thing he knew he was clear of the water, the shuttle skipping across the river.

Now he only had to flip it. Following the shuttle's movements he leaned over and lifted one of his legs to brace for the impact, as up and down swapped places once more.

Later, he couldn't really recall the actual moment it happened. He just suddenly found himself crashing down into his pilot seat, yelling out in pain as his tailbone hit one of the armrests, but still clutching the yoke. He quickly regained control of the ship and only then did it dawn on him what he had just pulled off.

"_Wo de ma_, it worked!" he hooted out loud, in surprise more than anything. "I am the best gorram pilot in the 'verse!" He continued to shout as he pulled back the yoke to gain more altitude. "And _of course_ nobody was here to witness it! But I still did it."

He glanced outside. The world below was totally changed; there was absolutely no trace of a settlement ever having been there. But the shuttle's homing beacon still worked like a charm and the console soon told him the whereabouts of _Serenity, _and from there it wasn't hard to calculate the route to the caves. He still had the supplies in the cargo room, and even though he had no idea what kind of condition it was in after all the tossing around, he thought he might as well finish the job and deliver it.

He slumped back into his chair with a sigh of satisfaction. "God, I am a _god_ behind the stick."

* * *

><p>Zoë was standing by the cave's entrance, looking out into the everlasting rain. She had gone back here as soon as she was sure that things had really quieted down inside, but now she was thinking that maybe it wasn't such a good idea.<p>

It frightened her that she was in such denial about Wash's death. Death was no stranger to her, she had seen it _so _many times and she was supposed to know what it meant. She had seen others deny it, though. One time during the war she'd witnessed a soldier drag his dead buddy around with him for days until the rotting body started falling apart, absolutely refusing to believe that he was really gone.

And now it felt like she was doing the same.

She wished she could cry. Wail out in despair. Just to feel something. Just to get it over with. But she just wasn't able to let go of hope. And it scared her.

She should go back to the others. Be with them. She would grieve eventually – the soldier had – and it would most likely be best if she wasn't alone when it happened. With a heavy sigh she threw one last look at the clouded sky and turned to walk back inside.

Then she saw it. First as a shadow in the corner of her eye, and her heart skipped a beat and her head told her not to believe, but she still turned back to have another look and it was really there.

The shuttle. It came flying through the clouds towards her, its landing lights blinking as it hovered above and started its descent.

"Wash!" she yelled. "Mal! Mal, come out!"

She ran towards the landing pad but stopped before she reached it, still not a hundred percent willing to believe her eyes. The shuttle touched down and the hatch opened and he came out.

It really was him. You could spot his floral shirts from miles away.

She started running again, and he saw her and limped towards her, a bright smile spreading across his face.

"Baby," he said as she came up to him, "what are you still doing...?"

She slapped him.

"What the…?" he exclaimed in surprise, covering his cheek with his hand.

"Don't you _ever _do that to me again!" she hissed. "You hear? Not ever!"

"Well, not if you're gonna _hit _me."

She threw herself into his arms and burrowed her face into his shirt, drawing in his scent. She heard hurried steps and shouts behind her and then Mal's voice, "Where the hell you been, Wash? You seen the other shuttle somewhere?"

"Why, did you lose it?" Mal must have thrown him one of his looks, because he abruptly changed the tone of his voice and added, "No, I haven't, but with the homing beacon we might be able to pinpoint its location."

"This one works?"

"Yeah, it works."

"Then let's get the hell away from this place."

"Yeah, there's some cargo we need to…"

Zoë's kiss stole the rest of his words.

* * *

><p>"You know, I could probably talk the captain into giving you and your daughter a lift to Haven," Book said as Torsten was walking him to the shuttle.<p>

Torsten smiled. "Thank you, but I think I should stay here for the time being. These people look to me now, I can't abandon them. At least not until help arrives."

Book nodded understandingly. "I'll do my best to make sure it does. I got some… _pull _with the Alliance." Torsten threw him a sideways glance and raised his eyebrows and Book lifted his hand defensively. "Don't ask me how. But I will use it to its full extent to get you good folks the aid you need."

"I appreciate it." They stopped by the landing pad and Torsten offered him his hand. "And I hope to see you again."

Book grasped the hand and shook it. "So do I."

"Preacher, we're leaving!" Mal yelled at him from the shuttle and with a last nod of goodbye Book turned and started walking towards it.

"Maybe Haven could use a shepherd too?" Torsten called after him.

Book kept walking, but looked back at him over his shoulder, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Maybe. Who knows?"

* * *

><p>"Okay, let's see if we can find our wayward shuttle and then get the hell off this rock," Mal said even as they docked back on <em>Serenity <em>and he and his crew were all making their way towards the hatch. Especially Simon seemed extremely anxious and impatient to get back inside the ship. "Relax, Doc," Mal told him. "I'm sure your sister's just fine."

"Well, I'll believe it when I see it," Simon muttered back.

"Come on, what's the worst thing that could've happened?" Mal continued as he slid the door open. "'Cept for them killing each other."

"My point exactly," the doctor replied as he pushed his way out of the shuttle.

"Oh, Simon," Kaylee twittered as she stepped out behind him. "I'm sure everything's just shiny. They…" She was abruptly interrupted when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and she walked straight into him.

Mal stopped too and frowned at the doctor. The young man had thrown a glance through the door leading towards the cargo bay and seen something there that made his face turn ashen and his eyes widen with fear. The captain followed his gaze and he too caught sight of the shapes wrapped in tarp on the floor.

Bodies.

"River?" Simon squealed before he turned and hurried for the kitchen. "River?" he repeated, louder this time, and Mal cursed and ran after him.

"River!" They burst into the galley and Simon skidded to a stop in front of his sister, who was sitting by the table, making notes in a journal, completely unharmed as far as Mal could tell.

She looked up and eyed her brother from head to toe. "You forgot to wipe your feet," she said calmly.

"River," he breathed, visibly relieved but also a little confused.

Mal looked around for Jayne and found him sitting there too, by the other end of the table, sharpening his knives. "There you are," the mercenary exclaimed. "'Bout time! What kept you?"

Mal stepped towards him and pointed a finger that trembled with suppressed anger towards the door. "What _happened_ here?"

Jayne shrugged. "Nuthin' much."

"There are dead people in my cargo bay!"

"Oh, _them,_" Jayne said matter-of-factly. "They tried to take your cargo."

"We did not welcome them," River added.

"The hell no," Jayne concluded, and they both turned their attention back to what they had been doing.

For a moment Mal and Simon were glued to their spots, dumbstruck, but eventually the captain managed to find his voice again, "But how did…?" he began, but stopped and threw his hands up. "No, never mind, I don't wanna know."

Instead he turned and headed towards the bridge. "Wash, get this boat in the air!"

* * *

><p>Behind him, the shadow of a smile graced River's features. Simon was the only one who saw it, and it was both the most beautiful and the scariest thing he had seen in a long time.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Well, my fellow Browncoats, this is the end of this particular story, but the thread continues. The next installment is called "Simon Says" - coming soon to a computer near you. And for those of you missing Inara, she will be playing a pivotal part in that one._

_Thanks for reading and reviewing (and you still can, by the way) :)_

_Until next time._

_- MK_


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